


on keeping appointments

by peonydee



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Established Relationship, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, Married Couple, come back silver fishies, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 09:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6148485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peonydee/pseuds/peonydee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>as it turned out, Adrien double booked himself one night</p>
            </blockquote>





	on keeping appointments

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mikochan_noda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikochan_noda/gifts).



> Inspired by this lovely art (http://ceejles.tumblr.com/post/140270984103/my-in-between-breaks-for-today-j-l-too-much) and miko deluging our chat window with nsfw arts and fic recs and filthy head canons

The shower facility is absolutely essential in a fencing club---and for good reason. The stink of sweat layered into the gear, no matter how often it is washed, became palpable even to one as enthusiastic for the sport as Adrien once the adrenalin winnowed down post-sparring.  
  
Ever restless, Adrien did enjoy the packed schedule he grew up with, even as an adult retaining some of it as hobbies. He promised an old sparring partner to join him for practice, had been promising it for months now, that when a tiny free window of their schedules coincided, he agreed to meet, even though it regrettably cut into his time at home.  
  
His wife's testy phone call caught him in the middle of him stripping off his gear.  
  
"I need you," Ladybug snapped over the telltale keening of an akuma run amok. "15th arrondissement."  
  
Adrien winced even as he dropped his helmet on the floor and called Plagg out, under shirt half divested and all.

The fight was long drawn out and quite ugly in parts. Whatever disquiet that had plagued his wife that evening had somehow translated even to her Ladybug self, causing her to bristle quite visibly whenever Chat Noir landed awry and flopped over her---not a rare thing, he'd readily admit--which then caused Adrien to be distracted as he racked his mind for whatever he may or may not have done to earn her ire. 

"My lady, this won't do," he told her quite firmly the tenth time they failed to coordinate their attack. "Whatever it is, we'll discuss it after we cleanse this akuma."

"Oh you bet we'll discuss it," Ladybug muttered, using his back as leverage for a jump. She sailed over the gaping maws of the eight snapping dragon flower heads, taking that time to sprinkle the packet of yeast that had been summoned by her Lucky Charm. The flower heads succumbed to a cacophony of sneezes, allowing Chat Noir's cataclysm to break the ceramic pot that protected the akuma's main bulk and exposing the phial of scent water within the tightly packed loam. Ladybug broke it with a vehement stomp of her tiny foot and cleansed the escaping butterfly. 

He ran to where she landed, just as her Miraculous beeped of its waning power. "What the heck was that, Ladybug?" he said, more concerned than upset at her lack of focus. 

She practically glowered at him through her mask, bristling once again when he caught her forearm to stop her from leaving. "Take me home before you regret it."  
  
"But Gorilla--"  
  
"Call him home later."  
  
"All right."  
  
She clung tightly around his torso and neck, her legs locked to his sides, as he made their way home as discreetly as possible through the rooftops. She spoke again two minutes later, after her Miraculous beeped its final warning and released Tikki from her earrings.  
  
"You have to carry me bridal style," she said tersely. “This position’s too revealing.”

Chat Noir almost dropped her when he discovered he was holding a woman in a lacy night shift that left very little to the imagination. Imagination was something Chat Noir had in spades after years of long practice. But now it was the years of long intimacy and muscle memory that easily called forth very distracting sensations, a hyper awareness that probably almost killed them both at least three times that short trip home.  
  
His lady wasted no time. As soon as they  slipped through the open window on the their spare room (it faced a windowless wall of the adjacent building, useless for other buyers but perfect for them), Marinette shifted her weight to unbalance him, landing them both on the carpeted floor, with her straddling, and very shortly after, kissing him.  
  
A few breathless seconds later, his Miraculous beeped its last. Plagg might as well have clawed his way from the ring, wasting no time to deliver a sardonic jab at his charge in his rush to get out of the room. Tikki didn't even go in through the window, Adrien vaguely registered through the hot needful strokes of his woman's tongue against his. All good things, he realized a moment later, after an empathic movement of Marinette's hips grounded home the fact that her hot, unclothed sex had also been kissing his sweat-slicked belly.  
  
Or was that not sweat?  
  
"Shit, Mari," he gasped into her mouth. "What were you doing before that akuma--"  
  
"Not you," she retorted. "Obviously."  
  
Well fuck him.  
  
"That's the idea."  
  
"Wait," he managed through the desire searing his mind to cinder. "The kids--"  
  
"At my parents. Date night, remember?"  
  
"Oh damn... sweetheart, I'm so sorry I completely--wait, Mari, I--"  
  
She mewled impatiently when he stopped the descent of her kisses down his neck, stilled the writhe of her body against his with soothing circles to her arms and back.  
  
"Mari, I haven't showered yet, I'm--"  
  
"A filthy stray, yes." She scraped her teeth against his collarbone meaningfully. "A nasty beast. You need a bath."  
  
She licked him from nipple to nipple in one wet, glorious lave of her tongue. One hand kept him pinned to the floor while the other one was quite direct in informing him just how thorough she planned on cleansing him, cupping his growing erection through his pants, through the supportive garment that were all just restrictive at this juncture.  
  
"Help me undress, Madame, and we'll bathe each other later," he promised. "For now..."  
  
"For now..?" she prompted breathless.  
  
"For now, Marinette, I'm fucking you."  
  
Her small hands, adroit with needles and scissors, made quick work of his pants, yanking them down past his knees before she pulled on his jockstrap next. The waistband slipped from her fingers, the elastic snapping at his hip like a whip, earning her a groan for her trouble. She huffed, fumbling now with impatience, but whisked his hands away when he tried to wiggle out of it himself. She hummed in satisfaction a moment later when she remembered: she removed the flexible cup that shielded their family jewels from its pouch and reached under the now-soft triangular patch of cloth to free his cock from its confines.  
  
She straddled him once more, slowly grinding against his belly, one hand to steady herself against his chest, the other reaching behind her to coax him into readiness. He busied his himself with her body even as she worked on him, hands cupping her breasts through the thin material of her shift, flicking a pebbling nibble here and there, running up and down her waist, her hips, her ass. Marinette leaned forward on her knees, moaning as her clit rubbed against the hard wall of his abs, and then settling her quim over his thickening dick, letting the moist heat of her flesh continue the work of her hand. She gyrated her hips, at first slow and measured, and then increasingly jerky, hungry.  
  
"Adrien," she prayed. "Adrien, please."  
  
"We'll take our time later," he promised, taking a hand from where hers balanced on his chest, kissing the nail marks on her palm tenderly.  
  
He coaxed her forward once more on her now shaky knees, aligned the glistening tip of his penis against the slick opening of her pussy, before surging up to sheath himself completely in her, their conjoined noises wanton. He guided her up and down his cock a few times, flicking his in an echoing movement, before she sank back down completely against him. She hitched up her lacy night shirt in order to feel more of his flesh against her unimpeded, mouths rejoining, rejoicing in their long awaited union.  
  
He reached between them, once her expert tightening became less and less concerted with each time he withdrew from her embrace, once her thrusts to meet his degenerated into desperate writhes and voiceless gasps. His fingers delved into their collective curls, the fair and the dark blending, and played upon her clitoris a song only the two of them knew.  
  
She keened, wailed his name as her  release crashed upon her. He allowed her to hit her crest unmolested for two heartbeats before flipping her beneath him, pounding a brisk, merciless rhythm into her flesh that lasted only a few more minutes before he too succumbed and released his seed deep inside her, punctuated by breathless reminders. I love you. I love you, Mari. I love you.  
  
"You're a jerk for forgetting," she said later, once they could speak again, though the arms with which she held him close were forgiving, yielding. "Supper's gone cold."  
  
"But I see that you kept our bed warm for as long as you could," he said slyly.  
  
"Adrien…”

"Not gonna lie: I'm glad that akuma interrupted you before you could decide you didn't need me in your bed tonight."  
  
"Cheeky kitten. Speaking of cheeky, this might actually be the first time I've seen you with an athletic supporter on."  
  
"You mean the first you've seen me with just it on?"  
  
"Mostly just it on, yes. I like it. Wear it to supper."  
  
"Just it on?" he repeated. He cocked an eyebrow at her, not yet wanting to admit that the idea of prancing around in his undies and socks was kind of exciting.  
  
Blues swam lazily underneath her eyelids as she considered this, teeth worrying on her lower lip. "Hm, you should keep your pants on, chaton," she finally said. "Or we won't even get to heat up food and I worked too damn hard on that beef casserole to let it go to waste."  
  
"Bath first then?" he suggested with a suggestive wiggle of his hips.  
  
She sighed. "Bath first, it is."


End file.
